Shannon wiped her eyes as she faced Evan at the table. He knew she was in her late fifties. Her hair was a pale red, worn in shoulder-length curls, and he would have guessed she was ten years younger. She was well freckled and wore shorts and hiking boots, clearly someone who loved to be outdoors. “He was such a good man,” she said, echoing Rowan’s opinion. “He loved to help people.”
Evan thought about how many times he’d heard that during past cases only to discover dozens of secrets held by the victim. Secrets about crimes committed, other relationships, or financial problems. He never made an assumption based on other people’s opinions; he had to experience it for himself.
“Were you married long?” Evan asked.
“Only two years, but I’ve known Ken for at least twenty. I was friends with his second wife. We all ran in the same circles.” She gave a weak smile. “The SAR community is small and tight. People come and go, but there has been a core group of us forever, and Ken was always at the center of that core. A good man,” she repeated. “He had his idiosyncrasies like everyone does. I know these quirks added to his divorces. He couldn’t help it; it’s just how he was. He wasn’t malicious or anything. He just . . .” She paused. “I don’t want to speak ill of him.”
“I understand,” said Evan. “No one wants to do that. But getting a good picture of his relationships with other people can possibly help pinpoint a motive.”
Shannon grimaced. “I don’t want to believe that Ken was murdered because he had quirks. Everyone has things that they like a certain way.”
“Give me an example of one of his,” Evan said encouragingly.
“Well, sometimes he needed to sleep outside.”
Evan raised a brow. “As in . . . needed some time to himself?”
“No, he needed to be outdoors. Sometimes the house was too confining.”
Claustrophobic.
“I see,” said Evan. “I don’t think someone would be murdered for that, but maybe it was hard on a marriage sometimes.”
“In our case, we just couldn’t live together. I’d been divorced for ten years when we married and couldn’t adjust to having someone in my space.”
Evan had often wondered if he’d have the same problem now. He’d lived with one woman in the past, but the two of them had been young and eager to make things work. Until they didn’t. “I’ve heard of married couples that live apart.”
Shannon lifted one shoulder. “We discussed that. But it didn’t feel right. We decided to legally separate things but we still . . . dated occasionally.” She pulled up a photo on her phone and showed him. “Our wedding day three years ago.”
Different strokes for different folks.
Evan tried to wrap his head around the facts that they still dated and that she carried their wedding photo. The photo showed a happy couple standing in the snow, a mountaintop sloping up behind them. She wore a dress in a loud Hawaiian print along with snow boots and held a bouquet of fir branches at her side, her mouth wide open in laughter. Ken was in jeans with his eyes trained on his new wife. They looked blissfully happy.
The image made Evan’s throat tight. “Again . . . I’m sorry for your loss. It’s great that you two were still close.”
“Ken was one of those people that never met a stranger,” Shannon said, wistfully eyeing the photo. “Everyone was immediately welcomed and made to feel special around him.” She looked at Evan. “You said there was no ID with him. How did you identify him?”
“I recognized someone in the photo on his cell phone’s lock screen. I went to her for identification.”
“Rowan,” Shannon said, nodding in understanding. “She was like a daughter to him. He was always concerned about her. He didn’t think it was healthy that she’d go looking for her brother.”
Evan was confused. “Looking for her brother?”
Shannon cocked her head, caution crossing her face. “How well do you know her?”
“Not that well, I guess,” said Evan, wondering what Shannon was holding back. “We’ve worked together on a few cases.”
The woman studied him. “It’s her story. Not mine to tell.”
“Of course.” Evan respected the woman’s protection of Rowan’s privacy. Clearly Shannon Steward wasn’t a gossip.
But I’m dying to know.
He shifted gears. “Juno had been picked up by animal control when I arrived at the scene, so I don’t know what she was like, but I had a hard time imagining that a dog would allow someone into her owner’s tent. Especially someone intent on violence.”
Shannon had started nodding vehemently during Evan’s statement. “I imagine most dogs wouldn’t. But Juno is the biggest sweetheart and absolutely loves everyone. Gets excited to meet every stranger. She probably welcomed him into the tent.” Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. “Damned dog.”
“Not a watchdog,” Evan commented.
“Most definitely not. Even Ken joked that she’d probably give a robber the keys to his home.”
“I know this next question is going to be tough, but—”
“Do I know of anyone who would hurt him.”
“Yes.” Evan picked up the pencil next to his yellow pad. “Don’t let your feelings for him impact anything you want to say. Any help could point us in the right direction to start looking.”
“Start looking?” Shannon paled under her freckles. “You have no leads?”
“We’re still processing the evidence from the scene,” Evan said smoothly. “While waiting for that, we interview the people closest to him. There were no witnesses.”
“No leads,” Shannon stated. “Well, shit.” She looked out the window, twisting her lips as she thought. “Ken’s been rather quiet lately. We usually meet for drinks every Thursday, but he had to cancel last week. Didn’t say why, and I didn’t ask.”
“He doesn’t ever cancel?”
“Never,” she said emphatically. “He’s always been annoyingly reliable.” One side of her lips drew up in a half smile at her description, but sadness flashed in her eyes.
“Any arguments with his neighbors? Personality clashes with coworkers?”
Shannon exhaled as she thought, but after a long moment, she shook her head. “I’m trying to be objective, and I honestly can’t think of anything.”
“What did you mean when you said he’d been quiet?”
“I hadn’t heard from him as much. Usually we text every other day or so. A long phone call once a week.” She picked up her phone and scrolled. “I haven’t heard from him since he canceled last Thursday.”
“Was that a text?”
“Yes. And before that he hadn’t texted for six days.” Her eyebrows rose as she scrolled. “And then three days before that.” She shook her head. “I hadn’t really noticed until now.”
“So something was occupying his time.”
“Maybe he didn’t have anything to say.” She shrugged. “But that’s not Ken. He was always the one with a story to tell and knew how to tactfully pry conversation out of the biggest introvert.”
“That’s a skill.”
“He came by it naturally.” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “Oh jeez. I’m going to lose it again. Excuse me, Detective.” Shannon snatched two tissues out of the box on the table, bent her head, and pressed the tissues against her eyes.
Evan leaned back in his chair, giving her some space, mentally running through their conversation. Other than something possibly preoccupying Ken over the last weeks, he hadn’t gleaned anything to follow up on. He still needed to ask her who Ken’s closest friends were, but Evan suspected his closest was sitting across from him.
“Excuse me, Shannon,” Evan said quietly, hating to interrupt her moment of grief. “Can you tell me who Ken would consider his closest friends?” If Ken didn’t have any known enemies, he’d start with the friends.
She lifted her head, sniffed, and wiped her eyes. “I’d say his cousin Eric Steward—he lives outside of town—and his friend Rees Womack. Rees is canine SAR too. He has a German shepherd. Gunnar.”
Evan wrote down their names, smiling inwardly because she’d included the dog’s. It appeared that in the close-knit SAR community, owner and dog were often seen as one unit.
Shannon’s phone chimed, and she glanced at the screen. “It’s Rowan. Checking up on me. She’s a good kid.”
Rowan had to be in her early thirties. That meant Evan also was a kid in Shannon’s eyes.